


when it pours, let it thunder

by captainsourwolf



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, Gen, Possible Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 06:36:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8152508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainsourwolf/pseuds/captainsourwolf
Summary: There's noise all around him--so much noise--and he can't make sense of it all. He hears the rain pouring from the sky in sheets, heavy, and the slight rumbles of thunder that came with it. He can hear people, their voices, shouting and their shoes hitting pavement and slapping on wet grass.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Criminal Minds fic. I was inspired by one of the bazillion episodes I've watched since I started the show mid-August. 
> 
> Forgive me.

It's raining.

It's raining and it's cold and the ground beneath Spencer is starting to get mushy, mud soaking into his clothes. In any other situation he would be able to tell the exact amount of time that has passed, how long he's been lying there, down to the very second. But for now all he can do is lie there, in the mud, and guess.

Five minutes? Five seconds?

He doesn't _know_. That's what's bothering him the most. He can't hardly focus on one thing at a time; he knows the rain is noisy and the ground is wet and his right side hurts like hell. 

_Oh_.

Spencer supposes that's what should be bothering him most. The spot right above his ribs, just at the top where his FBI vest doesn't quite cover, is throbbing. And, he guesses, the warmth that's spreading across his skin, under his vest, despite the cold rain, is his own blood. It makes sense. It's warm there and the rest of his body is cold--getting colder--and his shirt is sticking to skin uncomfortably. 

There's noise all around him--so much _noise_ \--and he can't make sense of it all. He hears the rain pouring from the sky in sheets, heavy, and the slight rumbles of thunder that came with it. He can hear people, their voices, shouting and their shoes hitting pavement and slapping on wet grass. He thinks he hears sirens, too. 

Spencer blinks and the rain seems to slow, the voices get deeper. He's cold and uncomfortable. 

And then someone is gripping him by the jaw and patting his cheek and-- _oh_. Everything speeds up, gets louder, and he's gasping in air like its his last chance to ever breathe again, sputtering against the rain and closing his eyes. There's so much pain; it's radiating through his body like fire hot needles. The grip on his face doesn't let up; now there's a voice to it.

"Don't you dare close those eyes, you keep them open, Spencer!"

Spencer knows that voice. He knows it like he knows his own mind. It's Derek. It's Derek's hand on his cheek and his grip on Spencer's jaw. It's Derek's warmth against his body. 

Spencer tries to speak but his words are failing him. Derek is still talking to him and saying things that don't make sense. Don't die? Why would he die?

Oh. Right. 

And Spencer knows, clear and sharp, that he might actually die right there on the muddy ground with the rain hitting him in the face and Derek's warmth the only thing keeping him present. He knows that there's blood pooling under him, beside him, and it's soaking into his clothes and the ground beneath him. It's probably on Derek's hands, too.

Spencer looks at Derek. If he's going to die then he's going to do it with Derek's face the last thing he sees. It's hard to focus with the rain, though. He blinks and he thinks it rapid but really it's sluggish and heavy, like he's exhausted and needs sleep right away. He supposes he does.

Derek's grip tightens just slightly, enough to bring Spencer's focus back to Derek's face. He tries to smile and he can taste blood now. It's an awful taste.

He knows Derek sees it; if the way his expression shifts from controlled anger and fear to a bit of heartbreak is anything to go by. Spencer would laugh at the entirety of the situation if it didn't hurt so goddamn much. The pain is still there and it still feels like fire hot needles, but at least he has company now. 

Derek is yelling. He lets go of Spencer's jaw and starts yelling profanities. His other hand slides off Spencer's cheek and Spencer misses it immediately. Instead it finds one of his own hands.

That's much better.

The rain is slowing down; it's becoming more of a drizzle. The thunder has stopped completely. Everyone is still yelling. Spencer can't keep his eyes open. They're too heavy and he's too cold and he can't catch his breath. 

Derek's yelling is directed at Spencer now. Something about keeping his eyes open, not dying, _"Don't do this to me, Spencer."_

He would never do this to Derek. Not intentionally, at least.

But he does. And _oh_ , does it feel good to just let it go.


End file.
